


Mobius Noir: Business Transactions

by BlazingBeast20, EdgeHedgeShads



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Video Games), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1940s, Alternate Universe - Noir, Consent, Crimes & Criminals, Desk Sex, Detective Noir, Detectives, Emotional Baggage, Emotions, Film Noir, First Time, Gangsters, Gay, Gay Porn Hard, Gay Sex, Gheytorade, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Mild S&M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mobius (Sonic the Hedgehog), Mobius Noir, Murder, One Shot, Organized Crime, Painful Sex, Police, Porn with Feelings, Religious-Sexual Clashes, Sexuality Crisis, Shadow needs a hug, Tags Are Hard, Yaoi, beliefs conflict, consenting sexual violence, somebody tell him its okay to be gay, upbringing conflict
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-06
Updated: 2020-07-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 23:55:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 16,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22584412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlazingBeast20/pseuds/BlazingBeast20, https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdgeHedgeShads/pseuds/EdgeHedgeShads
Summary: A collection of oneshot smutshots dedicated to the confusing and volatile relationship between DCI Shadow and Infinite, head of the Jackal Squad. Intrigued how such a relationship came to be, and what it is based on? Read on for some insight into some wholesome, smutty sad boy hours.
Relationships: Infinite/Shadow the Hedgehog
Kudos: 34
Collections: Case File Collection





	1. 1.0: Not The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's there for scotch, not a dick.

**NOT THE PLAN**

He's pacing, and it's driving them both to distraction. Still unaccustomed to strong emotion, Shadow struggles to keep them internalisted; with anxious anger bottled in his chest, it seems a miracle he can still breathe, but with no outlet for the unfamiliar he's suffocating on air. Ebon hands ring, long fingers tap on walls and surfaces or legs jitter irritably, but nothing burns his discomfort as effectively as moving.

Weeks have passed since his big break - busting open an illegal Chaotics fighting ring after begrudgingly accepting help from the Jackal Squad KingPin and ex-competitor - but little has changed. Now Junior Detective to Abraham Towers, he's been following the aging human like a lost sheep to slaughter after slaughter, always another body or several: drug runners and prostitutes, worst of all the odd trafficked woman or child, but _always_ a Chaotic.

The city is a cesspit of the deranged and degenerate, not a corner of the Chaotics Quarter actually safe compared to human districts, and Shadow won't admit to throwing up in an alley after his first crime scene. Detective Chief Inspector Towers thankfully hadn't seen, already headed back for the station to file a report, Shadow gathering himself before returning to the daily battleground of the precinct when it just came up without warning.

Over the years the crime got worse, but his stomach hardens to the gore and depravity in sync. He's begun to drown his brain in liquor after every shift, which doesn't stop the nightmares but lets the evenings pass in a haze, nicer memories of his family and his purpose melting an ice settling in his bones.

"Detective. Stop. _Pacing_." 

The dichromatic jackal's sharp tone reminds Shadow he's not at home but interloping in the jackal's shelter. Still without permanent accommodation and his home in Upper Westside cavernous without Gerald and Maria, he'd ended up in Infinite's hovel, of all places.

Said hideout is hardly more than a derelict home with roof leaks patched, utilities siphoned from a neighbour and slowly rotting cardboard and fabric strewn on the damp-soaked old carpets beneath. It's a squatter's dream, but the ebon's personal idea of Hell; mold climbs the walls and creeps along the skirting boards, and the scent of mildew and rotted wallpaper still makes him retch six months after his first visit.

"I can't think while you wear out the carpet, hedgehog." A brief pause, but he continues to pace until the jackal adds tersely: "Jesus Christ, just _stand_ _still._ "

The gang leader's office has new threads on the floor, the only room in the hide to have it, and while he claims it's to keep his paperwork dry Shadow suspects its a half truth at most. With his gang cared for but not pampered the jackal's pulling rank, reminding his subordinates who stands as Top Dog in their rag-tag family unit. The ebon might have respected him for it if he weren't using the same tactics right now, and stops his pacing.

"Its been six fucking weeks," he snaps as he digs in his pockets for his camels, seconds from losing the remnants of his composure as pocket after pocket is empty, the stress in his voice escalating with the shake in his hands. "The bastards won't let me near a new case to prove my worth, let alone the cold cases and I'm still on a goddamned leash; the shiny badge is good to see myself through police blockades unless some arrogant plods decide it's not valid, then Towers gets to call me to heel like a damned Tame _pet_!"

"Losing your head won't help," Infinite replies with an edge to his voice, leaning back in his chair with arms folded across his chest. "It'll take time, or did you forget humanity has an inherent dislike of Mobians with minds of their own?"

Not responding, Shadow finally pulls a cigarette carton out of a pocket and flips the top open to an empty case. A moment of silence, simmering crimsons regarding the offensive object like it shat in his cornflakes, then he crumples the packet in a fist and hurls it across the room with an angry shout. It bounces off a wall almost silently and falls into the debris littering the floor, its significance drowned by trash mirroring the SSPD's disregard for the unsolved case of his family's death.

"Well, that carton sure learned its lesson-"

He swings around with a snarl. " _Fuck you_ , asshole. What do you know of grieving? Of losing _everything_ that matters and then some, to be left on the street with _nothing_?" He closes the gap between them and slams bare palms on the desk, leaning over its surface with fangs bared in anger. "You don't know shit about it, so keep your damned observations to yourself."

Large ears fold back as the jackal's features twist into a glare, jaw clicking with tension. "I know about having nothing. How it feels to have no one care if you live or die, if you eat or starve. Maybe I don't know personal loss, but emptiness I'm well acquainted with." 

Arms unfold as he leans forwards, close enough to smell the whiskey on the detective's breath, and the remnants of smoke embedded in his clothes. The hedgehog's own jaw tightens, tan lips a thin line and ears folded as claws curl against the wooden desk in discomfort. "You're empty as well, but it's not a hole you can fill with liquor and gaspers; you need something real in there. Something tangible. Like a girl-"

"No," he states, pushing off the desk as he straightens. "I don't have the time or money to keep a skirt."

Shaking his head with a sigh Infinite stands, takes off his blazer and carefully folds the fabric over his chair, bushy tail carried high enough to not drag on the filthy floor as he steps around his desk. "Says the guy who spends his paychecks in _Rouge's_ , then skulks in my office for hours." 

Felt ears fold and tan lips pull back into a warning snarl, but the jackal pays him no mind, absently undoing his cuff and rolling a sleeve neatly to the elbow. He looks up as he does the second, catching crimson irises with his own mismatched orbs and a smirk. "Maybe dames just aren't your thing. Don't worry, your secret's safe with me, Detective."

The ebon's snarl vibrates deep within his chest. "I'm _not_ homosexual, jackal. Being a Chaotic in law enforcement is difficult enough. I don't need the surplus stigma."

Finished rolling his sleeves, the jackal begins to loosen his collar. "Yet here you are, bitching and moaning about life in a gang leader's hideout. I'd say that'd be far worse for the department to discover than _another_ Chaotic with less traditional preferences."

There's a gentle slope in his usual frown, obsidian hands clutching the desk now behind him, sharp claws digging into aged wood as the jackal steps closer. Breaths mingle, warming the little air left between them. Unsettled by the proximity, deft fingers skimming his jaw with excessive care and the jackal's sudden silence, Shadow instinctively jerks backwards and is reminded by a shrieking _creak_ of wood that he's against the desk. 

Cursing internally as those strong digits grasp his flesh, he's forced back towards an intense, mismatched gaze, left vulnerable even as something less horrible stirs in his groin when dark digits wander to his sensitive neck.

"Maybe someone already took your fancy." He continues as his hand wanders lower, slipping between waistcoat buttons and beneath crumpled shirt fabric to run claws over quivering muscles, smirking when it makes him shudder. "Someone who needs less upkeep than a skirt and doesn't care that you smell like a burning liquor factory."

A retort is already forming when the jackal's hand slips past his pants waistband and straight into underwear, warm hand directly cupping the ebon's swelling pouch. Shadow is as surprised as the gangster to find he's hard, words reduced to a strangled gasp on his tongue as his tip peaks from its sheath and thighs shudder with spikes of heated pleasure.

The jackal leans in closer, smirk audible in his confident tone. "Getting a bit excited, aren't you Detective?"

Shadow's left fist collides with his cheekbone; it stings, but the jackal stumbles with a grunt of pain and raises a hand to his assaulted cheek, grabbing the rickety desk for purchase before he ends up flat on the carpet. His heart beating a rapid pace and chest heaving, the ebon resists another shot and instead takes a step away.

"Don't touch me. I said I don't swing that way."

The statement isn't as definitive as he'd like, and when the canid straightens with a smile on his muzzle his groin burns with a fire of uncomfortable origin. He's aroused, horrendously underserviced as the Heat ended over six months ago, and alone with a male who has a growing bulge in his slacks with an obvious taste for all kinds of tail. 

With a chuckle Infinite moves in, a palm rested on the desk behind as he brings his whole body in close, coarse obsidian fur brushing against softer pelt. Fingers skim that defiant jaw a second time, taking note of the slight quiver of muscle and shaky inhale, how his prey doesn't recoil this time, and knows he's won. "I'll give you that swing for free, but I was right, wasn't I? You can deny it all you wish but you're still here, against my desk." 

Blood rushes to tan cheeks, Shadow snapping his focus back to the male basically pinning him to the desk with a growl. "When the alternative is showing the entire gang I got stiff in their boss' office? I'd rather drink that illegal shit you brewed in a bathtub, or my own piss."

"Then I suppose you're stuck here," the comments slips past white lips with a wistful air, pressing his body close enough for clothes to rustle and swollen groins to brush, sending a shudder of unadulterated bliss up the ebon's spine when he whispers "Perhaps we should make the most of an unexpected situation; my boys know not to interrupt when I'm conducting… business."

He grinds into the stubborn hedgehog without warning, rocking his hips in firm motions that send sparks of pleasure coursing through his abdomen that tighten his balls. Shadow tilts his head back with a shuddering gasp, each thrust drawing a whimper of need in contrast to his usual facade and it's intoxicating, swiftly drawing the jackal's erect manhood fully from its sheath.

Infinite moans, pressing his muzzle into the ebon's neck enjoying the heavy tang of male arousal with a deep inhale. The detective's waking pheromones only stir his own desire further; it's been days since his last foray, far longer than he preferred and even longer since his last male conquest.

Encased in the deep aromatic tones males produce, he craves release, and the hedgehog shivering beneath him finally seems compliant to receive pleasure.

He pulls back and flips Shadow onto his stomach, the ebon's grunt of discomfort ignored as a hand is splayed on the hedgehog's back. Fumbling with his zipper until his manhood is freed with a hiss, the jackal shudders and presses against the ebon's back to work on his belt next, breath hot on the detective's neck. "If you haven't been fucked before this is going to hurt. I suggest you leave some new marks in the old desk."

Pants dropped to his knees Shadow shivers, but when a thick rod presses between ebon ass cheeks they tense until he's roughly spread. Exposing a nervous, quivering pucker the jackal doesn't hesitate to line dick up with, verbal reservations are cut short as the throbbing meat rubs against sensitive flesh unused to direct contact.

"Don't be such a tightass," the gang leader chastises him with a playful air, growling softly as leaning closer both pins the uncertain hedgehog to his desk and increases the anticipative pleasure simmering in his anus. "You're gonna have trouble walking when I'm done if you don't _relax_ , and I have no intention of being gentle with you. I doubt you enjoy being coddled anyway. Am I correct?"

The growl is half-hearted, a burning in the ebon's groin slowly stifling lingering inhibitions as his shivering rim twitches with need. "You're a smug bastard."

His first thrust is ruthless, forcing his rod past the flexing sphincter and seating the jackal balls-deep inside the virgin canal beyond. His new bitch's scream of pain only accentuates the pleasure of thick muscle squeezing his engorged cock, whimpering pleasured moans fostering a dominance in Infinite he finds euphoric. 

"And you've a smart mouth," he groans, nipping an ear and resting his chest against the shivering form below, a hand splayed for balance while his free hand skims dark fur and gropes his shaking frame. "You'd be wise to get that reigned in. No human enjoys being challenged by a Chaotic, and that goes double for plods; speak out of turn too often and you'll end up in the Big House, being told to grab the soap."

Cheek pressed to the desk, he regards the jackal with equal parts contempt and desire, hands braced on worn wood with claws already dug into battered varnish. He hasn't felt so weak since his old life literally went up in smoke, yet this is... different. 

Even denying participating willingly his voice shakes, clinging to his tattered shreds of defiance. "Must've b-been one hell of a c-cock-"

Another thrust as remorseless as the first cuts the ebon off with his own cry, violated ass throbbing and eyes squeezed shut beneath the pain, unprepared canal rejecting the rough penetration even as his ring starts to adjust to the girth. Warm hands snag his hips and shift him slightly, and Shadow whimpers as the invading cock goes deeper, overwhelming his body with raw contact.

"There's that mouth again," Infinite quips as he begins rocking his hips into the ebon at a steady pace, growling his approval into a drooping ear whenever his prey cries out with an indiscernible mixture of pleasure and pain. The shuddering sphincter's squeezing slowly relaxes as the former overrides the latter, reducing Shadow's tense body to pudding on the desk as dark claws gouge new lines in the old veneer. "I know you want it rough, for me to fill that hole in your soul. Why else continue to heckle me in such a compromising position?"

Shadow can't answer, unable to find the words amongst his gasps and grunts of euphoria as the jackal pounds his anus. Lethargic crimsons catch half-lidded dichromats looming just over his shoulder, the pair staring for some time as all sense of its passage is lost to natural intimacy, the heavy breaths and the steady _slap_ of groin to asscheeks separating them from the world beyond as they echo off the office walls.

That crimson gaze is answer enough. "I'm right aren't I? How delicious your submission tastes…"

The jackal leans forward and presses his nose into a dark shoulder, taking a breath of the hedgehog's scent, of his arousal. Both hands begin to wander, grasping at flesh and fur until they still, one lost in crimson-striped quills while the other entwines with the shock of white fur obscured by the ebon's button-down. 

Claws digging into sensitive skin for purchase, his muzzle deeply nestled in the hedgehog's neck, Infinite pins the thin ebon with bodyweight alone and picks up the pace. Immediately Shadow begins to whimper, each thrust of the hips and obscene _smack_ of flesh driving him closer to the point of no return, his pleasured gasps and moans sending spasms of constricting bliss through the jackal's balls as he slams into the detective with all his strength.

Then Shadow squirms and screams, claws digging rivets into the desk with a passionate cry, bodywide shudders making Infinite believe he came until another thrust at the same angle gets the same response. Precum leaking from his penile slit with every shudder, entire body limp on the wood besides his claws ripping the veneer apart, maw agape and eyes squeezed shut as every slam of the jackal's thick cock into his prostate brings unfettered joy.

He'd forgotten how delicate a virgin ass could be. It's bringing Infinite to climax faster than anticipated, blood and heat rushing to his groin, euphoria clouding his brain. If it hadn't been so long, if the detective not so vocal, he might have been able to slow, but instead he growls and thrusts into that spot again, focused on how _close_ he is to emptying his constricted balls deep into that tight ass.

Maw agape and body shuddering, Shadow cums all over himself and the desk he's pressed to with a high whine of overstimulation. Infinite thrusts for the last time just seconds later as the tight hole spasms rhythmically on his engorged rod, instinctively seating his length deep inside for the knot that will form at the base of his cock.

The ebon moans softly as his own climax abates, only to hiss as the base of Infinite's dick suddenly swells inside his entrance. Abused internal muscles stretched beyond the normal threshold, he barely notices the jackal's cum flood his anal canal beneath excruciating pain stabbing through his anus. He squirms restlessly with a string of whimpers and gasps that heighten in pitch with every shift of his sore ass, teeth grit and felt ears flat to his skull in severe discomfort.

Infinite doesn't notice his distress until his own orgasm subsides, when the detective's incessant wriggling pulls painfully on his spent cock, at which point he jerks the hedgehog's head quills back with a snarl. "Chaos, it's not _that_ bad. Stop squirming and _stay still_ , or do I need to bite your scruff like a disobedient pup?"

"Hnn… if feels l-like you've stuffed your fist up my a-ass." Shadow forces the words out through whimpers of pain, most of the pleasure lost to the searing heat aflame in his backside. The grip on his quills relaxing, rubies meet glazed, mismatched irises over his shoulder as his anus begins adjusting to the mass stretching his previously tight ring, and his flushed features twist into a scowl. "And if you _dare_ bite me, I'll ram _my_ fist so far up _your_ ass, you'll t-taste your own shit for a week."

Rocking his hips gently into the hedgehog beneath, the jackal chuckles softly when the simple action renders Shadow a whimpering mess on his desk again, leaning in with a shuddering moan as his trapped dick shifts. "You weren't in a rush to leave, practically presented your ass to me as I pulled your slacks down, so deny it all you like; I _know_ you wanted me, and I'll even spare you the humiliation of a tart mark if you stop squirming like a pansy in Heat; having your manhood pulled by the knot _hurts_ , hedgehog."

Growling in dissent even as his body relaxes on the desk, exhausted crimsons flutter closed as Shadow regains his composure, the jackal's weight restricting how deep he can draw breath. His body demands oxygen while oddly reassured by the warm weight on his back, and is fatigued despite being relatively passive throughout the entire exchange.

Arms and legs pleasantly warm, core still shivering with aftershocks of delayed pleasure, his ass _aches_ with satiation. The thick ring of muscle at his opening flexes lethargically in time with the remnant bliss in his body, ebon unable to discern why his muscular channel is less tense after such abuse until realisation hits like a brick.

His entire ass seizes with concern, drawing a whimper from the ebon as his claws dig back into the old wooden desktop. It takes a few seconds to consciously relax, letting the knot sit comfortably again as nausea climbs his gullet but shame drains all the strength from his knees, and Shadow sags against the desk beneath the jackal's weight; legs listless, pointed toe-caps resting in thin carpet. Breath seizing, emotions Shadow doesn't recognise threaten to spill over; he swallows an urge to cry that leaves the ebon emotionally numbed with his forehead pressed to the cool table.

_He's right; I wanted this._

_I let him sodomise me and enjoyed every second._

Heavy breaths warming ebon fur constantly remind him of what he allowed to transpire, the indignity of wanting to be penetrated, of _enjoying_ being pounded like a skirt in Heat. It's a taboo alone; homosexually isn't tolerated in Human society and certainly not in Tamed Chaotics, is even shunned in Free Chaotics as uncouth debauchery of a lesser species who can't help themselves.

If the SSPD finds out he's engaged in such activity, he'll be out on his ass faster than a fly finds shit, but even more concerning is his reputation. To allow a notorious criminal gang leader to fuck you in the ass isn't just scandalous but career destroying, likely to cause arrest and subsequent dismissal, accusations of perverting the course of justice and a trialless conviction to prison.

_Life behind bars for indulging in sexual gratification._

_A punishment that hardly fits the crime._

He's never believed in God, the Professor more religious by habit than actual faith, a man of science who never attended mass, more focused on proofing papers and writing abstracts than life outside of his home. The Bible lay untouched for as long as Shadow resided there, leading the Chaotic to believe his Owner's philosophies were his own, but he still hadn't approved of sodomy. 

He'd lament cases in the paper as uncivilised, told the ebon multiple times he was better off not discovering sex and despised the Heat with a passion. Sex was not a subject you discussed with company, and homosexuals had a tendancy to be less constrained than their straight peers. Both this undignified openness and indulgence in an act meant solely to reproduce was what he hated.

Shadow took his opinions and made them his own, even if he never truly understood. It hadn't been his place to challenge or question, only to obey. He'd done so with a loyalty unmatched by most he's met since, up to this moment believing he'd always maintain those beliefs.

Except now his perceptions are shifting to those of a partaker, not of the naive observer, and in reality what they'd shared affected no one but them. Neither have a spouse, both consented, which was more than some heterosexual couples could claim, and surprisingly he feels _calmer_ ; his ass stings like a motherfucker but his mind is clear as it ever was in the Robotnik household, quite novel after almost a year of poorly focused haze.

_Requiring another to function as an individual, to need to be fucked senseless before sanity can return..._

_Am I so irreparably damaged?_

He barely notices the jackal pull out, an ear turning to a grunt of sensitivity over his shoulder but nothing more, quivering legs planting to support his weight as he lays prone across the desk. It feels good to be relieved of the emotional noise usually cluttering up his head, better to _feel something_ other than loss, even if it's the singing of abused internal walls and the low burn of fatigue, but he can't deny the reality settling on his mind.

"Jesus," the canid mutters, skirting the desk with a palm on its surface for balance until reaching the old armchair serving as a desk chair. Falling onto the worn fabric with a grunt he opens a desk drawer, retrieving a glass flask of dark liquid and two glasses as Shadow tiredly tilts his head to watch. "It doesn't foster satisfaction when your lay takes it like a bought bitch, Detective. Stand up and own that sore ass, before I start treating you like one."

The simple act of shifting to an elbow sending a sharp twinge through his insides, Shadow stalls with a grunt, letting the pain settle before he gives the jackal pouring them both generous glasses of liquor a tired glare. "It wasn't your ass fucking _knotted_ , so unless you do wish my fist inside your colon, I suggest keeping your penis in your slacks, and your damned opinions to yourself."

Grunting in pain and fatigue the ebon straightens with a palm pressed to the desk, willing away the weakness in his knees as he takes a tumbler, downs its smokey liquid contents and slams it back down with a slight cringe. Surprised by the harsh richness accompanying a familiar burn of hard liquor, he frowns at the empty glass before he turns it on Infinite.

"This is one to be savoured. Aged in its barrel through the height of prohibition, one of a dozen." The jackal leans back in his chair and raises his tumbler up, inspecting its contents through angular glass before hard irises meet curious crimsons. "Try not to knock it back like bootleg pisswater, Detective. Enjoy it for once."

It's all a little too much as Infinite decants another glass and pushes it over, so much even he doesn't reach for it immediately. Gaze locked on the gangster relaxing in his chair with fly still undone, he struggles not to look at the semi-engorged organ nestled amongst dishevelled fabric and fur, especially whenever it twitches in aftershocks of spent ecstasy that send similar spasms through his anus.

"Why?" Shadow is struggling to understand, curiosity on tan lips at Infinite's contented bliss. Mismatched irises open as he raises a monochromatic brow, prompting an elaboration. "You can't breed males and could've dealt with those urges yourself, even paid a whore if you wish reproduction. Was this nothing besides a debaucherous indulgence expected of our species?"

"Is that what your owners taught you?" 

The jackal's tone is flat, no expression beyond a grimace as he rests his glass on his knee and chin supported by a fist. When the hedgehog doesn't answer Infinite sighs and straightens, resting his elbows on the desk instead as he leans forward. "I'm not going to tell you what to think, but can I offer some advice?"

He doesn't wait for the ebon to respond, expression as hard as his tone. "Humanity has more flaws than this desk, varnished with lies to help them sleep while their sins rot and fester. They offer us only fallacies meant to render Chaotics submissive to their self-serving species, fearful of intelligent life besides their own. The Professor may have been a good man, but forcing Human values upon you, expectations that don't belong in our world, brand him just another egocentric, overgrown ape."

The jackal pauses to sip his drink, then rests back in his chair with a smirk, calf rested on his opposite knee. "I fucked you because I wanted to, not because I couldn't help myself. Besides, you seemed to enjoy being bred over my desk, and there's no shame in that. Far worse vices than seeking pleasure persist in both societies."

Shadow tisks in disagreement, downing what remains of his drink and pulling up his slacks. "My superiors would beg to differ, or did you forget Humans view sodomy as a crime? I'd be fired, incarcerated before discerning my accomplice, and I've no doubt revealing with whom I indulged would benefit either of our futures."

"You fret like a dame." He growls and catches Infinite's mismatched gaze, irritated by how casually he sips his drink before speaking. "My boys know not to share my business; there's no risk of exposure, so lighten up some and enjoy yourself, won't you?"

"Leaving your sheath on show is hardly discrete." 

In response, sharp dichromats scour his torso until they come to rest on ebony abdomen fur, then snap back to hard crimsons. Infinite takes a casual sip with a cocked brow, and unable to resist Shadow glances down to his disheveled clothes and stomach only to start scrubbing at the cum matting his fur with his creased shirt. " _Fuck_."

Infinite returns his now-empty tumbler to the desk with a chuckle, both standing and zipping his fly in a flourish. "Hardly discrete to walk out with your own seed in your fur, not to mention my load still leaking out of you. I'll lend you a jacket. That usual thin overcoat you favour won't disguise the sex clinging to your fur."

Giving up on the resilient liquid soaking his stomach, the ebon shoves the tails of his shirt into his waistband with a growl, ears folding back as he watches Infinite retrieve the thicker coat from a rack covered in other jackets and caps. "I don't want anything more of yours; the indignity of your semen dripping out my ass is enough."

"While defiance is your default reflexive response, try to see beyond that hedgehog stubbornness and listen." He chastises while draping his coat over his shoulders, smoothing the fabric thoughtfully before adding: "You reek of cum, sweat and male pheromones. I'm lending it to maintain our secrecy, not embarrass you."

Despite wanting to he doesn't shrug it off, the weight of fabric reassuring in the wake of previous uncertainty. It's bathed in Infinite's scents, musky pheromones and sour sweat, filling the ebon's nostrils and flooding his mind. They draw potent recollections of their recent foray, his first shared sexual experience that echoes in his ass as memories play and dissipate behind glazed crimsons.

A chill shoots up the hedgehog's spine, cutting his inner monologue short as he's dragged back to the present. A step away with noses almost touching, Infinite's breath ghosts across his muzzle and warms his neck when their gazes lock. His proximity makes Shadow feel vulnerable; he scowls and bares his fangs to disguise it, an edge to his voice. "I'm not your territory to mark, Jackal."

"I wouldn't dream of it." Infinite states, staying quiet until he's buttoned up the coat before he lets sternness infect his tone. "But I want that coat back, hedgehog; be sure to return it swiftly, or I'll retrieve it from your flat myself. Understood?"

Shadow grunts, habitually digging through the coat for a smoke until he finds a carton in a pocket. Surprised, he withdraws the pack hesitantly, flipping it open to find it half-filled with a zippo lighter tucked in alongside those that remain. Confused rubies raise to a smirking jackal, who helps himself to one and the lighter. "Keep the rest, since you're out. Leave a half in it when you return."

"You could've just given me a gasper this entire time…?"

He takes his time lighting the cigarette and returning the zippo, taking a long drag from the stick before casually blowing out the smoke between his teeth, shit-eating grin begging for another slug before he even replies.

"And where would the fun have been in that, Detective?"


	2. 1.5: Cry For Help

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More questions, no answers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Featuring: Drunk Shadow
> 
> Come see the vault of spin-offs, art and shitposts that are our Discord server! Just copy this into your browser!
> 
> https://discord.gg/reCxjtm

**CRY FOR HELP**

It's been three days. Three whole fucking days and he can't stop thinking about being bent over a desk and drilled until his head feels full of cotton. For a day he didn't even drink, just a smoke after meals he actually remembered to eat, a clarity he hadn't experienced in years leading to the break of one of his most frustrating cases. His anal muscles still flex whenever he remembers the pain, the  _ pleasure _ of release from emotion and stress.

But Shadow is slipping, beyond thought as effective as the event constantly running through his mind once again thanks to drink. The shake in his hand is gone, the need to smoke far less, but it fills a hole the last three days have made even more obvious. He still has no idea what should be there, only that while liquor numbs pain, Infinite somehow filled it.

_ Christ. How pathetic. _

His body begrudgingly complies as he forces it to sit up, reward the bitterness of scotch straight from a bottle. He ignores the sticky residue on the bar and focuses instead on taking a slug, far too drunk to realise it isn't helping him think but hindering his common sense. Limbs weak from intoxication, the bottle slams back down afterwards in unintended force, drawing the attention of both bartenders as he belches and slumps onto an elbow.

"Alright, hon. I think you're done." Shadow growls and tightens his grip on the bottle, barely able to focus on the bat with her hands on her hips and a worried frown on her face. He curls his lip in threat, but ends up sounding like a deflating ball, drooling constantly from his slack maw and making Rouge wrinkle her nose. "That bottle is empty When you can't remember five seconds ago, you're done."

Behind the bar, Espio snorts as he counts his night's takings. "He was done a few years ago, then."

A sharp retort forms in his throat but it dies just as quickly. Lips quivering shut and eyes glazing over, a single tear and shaky breaths are enough to flip his empathic friend from concerned to motherly. She pulls up a stool, leaning close as the drunk ebony straightens with all the grace of cooked spaghetti and wipes the weakness away with uncoordinated vigor. 

"Chaos, Shadow. What happened?"

"Nothin'," he deflects, taking another drag from his empty bottle before slamming it back down on the bar with frustration. "Who I gotta to fuck to get a fucking  _ refill _ in this godda-da- _ damni-it _ -"

His body crumples, head thankfully smacking into a forearm with a dull thud instead of the hard bar, his body wracked with a sudden onslaught of tearful gasps and more drool softening any recent stains. The bat glances to Espio with fearful concern in her eyes before turning back, trying to handle a rather unexpected situation with care. "Hey, easy now. Whatever it was, we'll work it out. It's okay to cry-"

" _ Shu'u-up."  _ He angles onto an elbow and wipes his face roughly, a bare palm spreading tears and snot through sticky fur. Another blubbered sob expels a fresh streak of gunk from a nostril even as he tries to regain his composure though, the back of a hand streaming mucus across his face. "It wassa mistake. A in-th'moment, stupid damn  _ mistake an' I didn't _ -"

"Shadow," her soft tone interrupting his drunken assertion, the ebon goes quiet, staring down at his snot-streaked palm. More evidence of weakness he can't tame. Too ashamed to meet her gaze, Shadow squeezes watering rubies shut and sucks in breath, resigned to letting Rouge wipe the mess on his face with a tissue while she speaks softly. "We all make mistakes, but you're our friend and nothing you can do will change that. We only want to help."

Cringing at her sentiment, he tilts away from her and turns his head aside in shame. It takes a few minutes of steadying breaths flexing claws on the dark-grain bar before he can whisper his confession so heavy, it's nauseating. "He fucked me, Roushe."

A glass shatters, finally dragging his attention from inflection. Behind the bar, Espio remains frozen still shining the broken tumbler, reptilian eyes wide and temporarily showing emotions that echo in his tone. "Who, the jackal? When? Why did he-"

"Easy, Esp. Let the guy breathe." He almost laughs at the notion, barely able to focus on sucking in air beneath the chameleon's scrutiny, chest both tight and far to empty. A gentle, unexpected touch to his muzzle makes Shadow jump and recoil. Very nearly falling backwards off the bar stool, he manages to wedge a forearm on the grimy bar and proceeds to hang there, staring at his worried friend with heart still beating a samba of fear. "Jesus, Shadow…"

_ They think I'm disgusting. _

Regretting telling them, the ebon struggles back to a sitting position and immediately slips from the stool. He makes it just three steps towards the cloakroom before he stumbles forwards and lands hard on his knees, saved from smacking into the floorboards by an unexpected chameleon under his shoulder. "Stay the night, Detective. You're in no condition to drive."

"I don' need no fucking  _ pity _ ," Shadow responds spitefully, yet surrenders to their assistance back to his stroll heavy as a sack of flour, unfocused eyes scathing while they try to roll back in his skull. The sentiment doesn't carry over though, deposited on the stool with sickening care. "It f-felt… oh God, it f-felt  _ good _ . I just w-wanted to feel somethin' other than s-sadness, and n-now-" 

He pauses and whines a pitiful pitch, escalating into more tears as his head drops into folded arms, any further words muffled by fur. "It's so vulgar... Why'd I let 'im do it, Rouche? Why can't I st-stop thinking about how good his cock felt in my ass? He's a m-male, a damned criminal. H-has common sense forsaken me so freely?"

Silence her only response he pivots his head, anger flaring at her concern. " _ What's wrong with me?!"  _

_ Tell me it isn't. Say it's something else, I beg you. _

Rouge is about to respond, but cuts off when Espio pinches the ebon's vagus nerve, the sudden loss of blood and oxygen to the brain knocking the drunk out. It's a trick the bartkeep often used with rowdy customers, one she'd even praised, but watching her friend's eyes roll before his head drops to his forearms has the bat disillusioned. " _ Espio _ , he's our friend! When he finds out you-"

"He won't," the chameleon states softly, sharp eyes on the detective that transitioned to sleep as soon as normal blood flow returned, gentle snore of rest fills their empty bar with life. After a moment, he looks back to hard teal irises with an intense stare of his own, but sighs and returns to cleaning soon. "It was for his own good; he wasn't in any state to hear the truth, given his past. You know that."

Sad eyes scale back to her troubled friend. He looks strangely peaceful now, features softened by the depths of blissful nothingness. Rouge sighs as well and sits beside him, gently scratching behind an ear in a spot he likes and can't keep in a light laugh as he murrs contentedly. "I know,  _ I know _ . I just… Don't like keeping things from him. How can he accept it if he doesn't know?"

"I may not feel or understand the emotions, but his overreaction suggests he knows." Espio pauses in thought before huffing out a breath, a gentle shake of his head in confusion. "Acceptance has to come from within. You told me that yourself. Now, stop being so emotional and finish your work."

Rouge rolls eyes, but leaves the ebon to sleep, who barely flinches as they finish their nightly routine. It goes against her instincts to leave him alone. Espio convinces her it's for the best, but she comes back once more to wrap a blanket around his shoulders and peck his ear. The flicker in response to her kiss enough to satiate any concerns growing in her gut she heads to bed, unknowingly leaving Shadow to stew on his most painful thought in slumber.

_ Please, Rouge. Tell me I'm not gay _


	3. 2.0: I Demand an Encore

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He seeks answers directly.

**I REQUEST AN ENCORE**

Shadow finds himself at the Den a lot more the next few weeks, but honestly doesn't know why; his fling with the jackal is over. Infinite shows no interest in further trysts, causing conflicted feelings to arise in the junior detective. The scandal of a cop sleeping with a criminal could cost not only his job but also his freedom, possibly even his life, but he's equally plagued by melancholy for it to be over.

Forcefully bent over an old desk, ruthlessly fucked by a sadistic criminal, enduring both the ordeal and a tirade of unsettling emotions afterwards, Shadow feels disillusioned. He feels manipulated, forced to enjoy an act repulsive to his traditional, Christian upbringing, but just can't seem to stay away.

_ Does benevolence truly warrant such resilience to sin from the faithful, or have I been misled? _

The prospect Gerald lied to keep him in line doesn't sit well with the hedgehog. Shadow assimilated the Human's morals as his own, sure they were as pure and unbiased as God's people could be, but were they also just products of self-indoctrination? It's a possibility he doesn't want to entertain but more concerningly, he's not sure it matters; they're dead. His life is his own now, to do with what he wishes, his Earthly soul in no others hands but his own.

Still staying with the Squad or sleeping in his office, a recently renovated closet on the ground floor of the precinct, he's ended up in the gangster's office every night since their 'transaction'. Embarrassing enough already, Infinite pretending it didn't happen is like a slap to the face and drives Shadow to drown his sorrows in cheap liquor. He drinks until he struggles to stand, waking more than once in a nest of sheets and blankets on the gangster's floor, a memory that has his fingers tighten on his glass where he sits opposite the ranting jackal without consent.

_ Jesus Christ... _

He's not found anyone attractive before, regardless of gender or species. He assumed having a Human upbringing blunted any primal cravings for release so prevalent in Chaotic society, leaving him in limbo between the two cultures. Given Gerald lamented even Human desires as a waste of time, he'd been content with that lot, allowing him to focus on their case without distractions.

The same applied to Infinite when they first met; he was arrogant and brash, prominent scars curious but entirely ignored by his Squad. He'd seen those surface qualities first as an irritatingly unavoidable presence after being forced to join the Squad, and then an unexpected ally as it enabled his own ambitions. Now, he sees the criminal differently; Infinite still exudes authority and control, but uses a vocabulary beyond what a street rat should know and Shadow can't stop thinking about why, or him.

Still not listening, Shadow sips at the amber liquid, cringing slightly at the trail of fire in his gullet that nauseates his gut. Despite abhorrent aftereffects, whiskey helps him focus. His mind usually lost to a vortex of memories and dreams is at peace thanks to slight intoxication, but unfortunately, it focuses on the afternoon his world got thrown off kilter. 

_ When Ifinite bred me like a whore over this desk... _

" _ Detective _ ," the jackal asserts sharply, tone lacking in patience. Shadow startles, meeting his irritated stare, thinly pressed lips and tightly strung jaw with trepidation. Unmoved by his hesitance, Infinite narrows his eyes and taps a claw against his glass in irritation "Have you been listening? Or are you so dazed by a finger of scotch, you can't concentrate?"

" _ I'm not drunk _ ," the ebon snarls with more anger than intended, returning the glass to the desk with a dull  _ thud _ . Not a whole truth; he's tipsy, hoping to be unconscious within the hour, but is lucid enough to pass for sober as he meets the jackal's stare with a glare of his own. "I've had a lot to think about."

Infinite snorts humourlessly, drawing a growl from Shadow's throat the jackal is unphased by, meeting it with a grimace. "Like hell you do, hedgehog. Besides the chameleon and his harlot, I'm the only one asinine enough to tolerate your temper. You have a home, financial stability, job security. Please, enlighten me; what's more important to the SSPD's token Chaotic with his needs met than Nack taking Central from under my nose? I'm  _ dying _ to know."

Frustration at his upbringing, vivid dreams of being taken roughly  _ again _ by the male currently glaring at him, the memory of feeling filled to the brim by this criminal's hot cum all seize his tongue in place. But imagining being pinned to the desk as Infinite rubbed his cock against a quivering pucker, his anal cavity flexes with desire and his muzzle flushes to such a shameful shade of pink, Shadow looks away.

" _ Oh, I see _ ." 

Embarrassed beyond words, what remains of his dignity smolders along with his skin, but unable to look back in shame he busies himself with his drink. He sips the disgusting liquid for a distraction, the buzz of alcohol dulling his brain oddly reassuring. "Drop it, jackal. You don't know shit."

"I know sexual arousal," Infinite purrs in low tones. A shit-eating grin crawling across the canid's muzzle in his peripherals, Shadow curses under his breath, his saviour also turning the flush of his cheeks to a betraying burn. "No need to be ashamed, Shadow. Every Chaotic feels sexual desire, especially around those who have brought them to ecstasy."

" _ Drop it, _ " the detective reiterates. He's agitated, as exposed as a newborn Chaotic, but it's insinuations he's cast Gerald's teachings aside that causes ebon quills to bristle. "I'm  _ not  _ gay, shitstain. You were-"

The gangster falls back into his chair with a huff of disbelief. "Please, have some integrity. I did nothing but offer opportunity. Had you said no, I would've let you go and gotten a whore." He pauses to taste his drink, humming in approval as he swallows but not breaking their eye contact. "No, I bent you over but you stayed there, ass presented like a primal bitch in heat. That's consent, Detective. You wanted it."

A smirk quirks pale lips into a mischievous smile, a flash of fangs sending minute shivers up the ebon's spine. It's been six weeks, but he can feel the ghost of those sharp canines raking through ebony fur, a misstep away from piercing his delicate throat. Lust burns in mismatched eyes and Shadow can't deny the heat stirring in his groin, their continued stare drying his mouth and curling his toes with desire.

"Intercourse is like fine liquor; to be savoured and appreciated, always far better to indulge in familiar, trusted tastes than some bottom-shelf piss from the local dive." He pauses again to sip, swirling the remaining scotch absently, sharp irises glazing over with some level of inflection Shadow isn't privy to. "A man with standards is more likely to realise this than an alcoholic. The same applies to sex; indulge too much and it loses appeal, but a good signature in moderation is a delicious spice of life."

_ He's realised I'm attracted and trying to lure me in. _

The realisation isn't too shocking; during his years with the Squad, it quickly became apparent he and Gray alike were exceptional manipulators, the skill likely learned to bluff during their fighting careers. He also abhorred lying, so what does surprise him is Infinite's unusually loose lips a moment before; admittance to being picky with associates and sex, preferring to savour fever choices.

If that is a truth, Shadow feels inanely naive for not yet noticing, or even figuring out why the gangster has been willing to let him in to drink nightly. Going on all he's just stated, that would mean he enjoyed the ebon's company before they fucked, because his use as an Upper West informant died just days after being conscripted, and Gray's irritation makes sense if he was ousted as preferred confidante.

That being said, Infinite jumped on the slightest of cracks in the detective's veneer, toying with him as soon as the flush touched his cheeks. Was that his own attempt at creating an opportunity? To allow Shadow to show he wanted it as well? The concept of a criminal caring about consent is humourous to the confused hedgehog, yet it's suffocated under a burning and very real truth of his own.

It's scandalous, perversely opposed to the norms of human society. The ebon wants to tell Infinite as such and storm out in disgust, shutting the fantasy down before it escalates. But his dick throbs within his pants, straining for that same calming release so imprinted in his psyche, his first sexual contact set in stone with the criminal watching him silently as his kind struggles to solve a biblical dilemma.

_ God have mercy, this is why I kept coming back. _

_ I want to feel him inside me. _

Obsidian claws flex on the arm of his chair, grazing the frayed material and severing a few threads. A crimson pinkie claw taps the side of his glass slowly as with that epiphany, he's frozen in place. What it would mean for his eternal soul is obvious; he'd never rejoin Maria and Gerald, condemned to the cold of purgatory with the other Chaotics to morph into creatures of death and plague.

_ This shouldn't be a quandary, no thought required.  _

_ Yet I'm almost powerless to resist…  _

Despite being still minutes before, his hand shakes with uncertainty. Like the novels he read to Maria he's hit a pivotal moment in his own story, and also much the same it's a character determining one. If he casts aside their teachings, he could never allow himself to return to God, but refusing this invitation could see the Squad's support of cases revoked. It's trading sins of the flesh for the good of the city, not much better than a working girl to the law.

_ Is it weakness, to surrender your soul so easily? _

_ Am I flawed to believe this fair? _

In need of courage, Shadow downs his now warm whiskey, choking back the alcoholic burn as he sets the empty glass back on worn wood with a  _ clink.  _ A handful of seconds crawl by as the Christian in him fights with his Chaotic biology. Then he's standing, unsure crimsons locked to dichromats as he slips a finger of each hand into the sides of his waistband. He eases the suffocating material from his hips, not intended to tease but because he's nervous; palms sweaty and mouth dry, a little unsteady on his feet.

He swallows down the ensuing nausea and drags the material past his heated erection, teeth grit to contain a hiss of relief as his manhood springs free. With heavy breaths and heart racing Shadow leans forward, hanging his head as he braces both palms on the desk, unable to disguise the quivering in his thighs now his pants pool around unsteady ankles. 

His rod begs to be touched, throbbing in the cool office air until the detective can't stand it anymore; he whines ever so softly and glances up, features so flushed the pink hue reaches his inner ears. He scours the jackal's body for signs of arousal, the bulging tent at his crotch, but it's enough to boost a nervous hedgehog's confidence. He's never been so aroused, never been happier to have someone else to be aroused by him, and it's intoxicating.

"Here's your opportunity. So take it, asshole." 

Infinite considers this as he sips, absurdly unphased by what must be a painful restriction of his groin. A second sip becomes a jerk of the neck as he downs what remains of his own liquor, placing the tumbler down at the same moment he stands, long fingers loosening an already open collar further as he steps around his desk.

_ Does it even matter what I do anymore? _

On reflection, he's put himself in a very vulnerable position with one of the most unsavory characters in the underworld, the repercussions of which are all endlessly sordid and violent. The ebon watches Infinite approach warily, difficult with a heady mix of fear and lust washing over his shaking frame, but all reservations quickly melt into simple need when the criminal's warm body leans over him. 

A ghost of deft fingers up a thigh and across a hip draws a whimper from tan lips, anticipating a firm grasp of his pulsing cock. They skim past it though, causing Shadow to buck and press against the hard, clothed mass until it grinds his tailhole. The jackal's response is a grunt of surprise before claws dig into soft hip flesh, forcefully stilling any further attempt at hurrying him along.

" _ Christ _ , Infinite. Just fuck me alre-" 

A hand fists his quills and yanks his head back, both shock and pain killing his voice in favour of a gasp. The other still holding a hip to the desk, his back is bent uncomfortably far to allow Infinite to see his face, forcing him to breathe canid pheromones that enrapture his senses; a heavy musk indicative of a pack leader, combined with a hot flush of arousal. Primitive scents beyond any conscious control,but still render him unwilling to fight the painful grip.

"I'm surprised that mouth hasn't gotten you fired yet," Infinite states, grinding his clothed dick into the eagerly quivering ring, growling when Shadow still attempts to push back. He lets go of a hip but pulls on his quills again, a reminder he's in charge of the transaction as he gropes an asscheek. "Allow me to help temper your fire, Detective."

There's a definitive  _ zip _ and rustle of clothing, soon followed by the press of pulsing heat to his aching hole. Shadow gasps as their flesh grinds with almost painful intensity a split second and then it's over, a second at most to realise what comes next before being impaled on Infinite's thick manhood by just one, very unforgiving thrust. He chokes a pained gasp and digs his claws into the wood beneath for purchase, eyes tightly shut and biting his lower lip as the gangster wastes no time finding his rhythm.

Penetrated without mercy, his anus sings a chorus of confusingly pleasurable pain. He contains the yelps and whimpers each thrust prys from his chest behind grit teeth, desperate to outlast the pain he knows will simmer to pleasure, determined not to collapse on the desk but take his cock with dignity.

_ If my sin brings their souls peace, it's justice. _

He shivers as claws comb through abdominal fur, deep groans of bliss slipping free as he strains against the hold locked in his quills, only to audibly gasp when Infinite abandons his chest fur, grasps his neglected rod and roughly fondles the swollen organ. Ebon legs shudder violently and threaten to give out; his knees bow inwards, his thighs shake, unsequestered grunts of ecstasy escaping tan lips as he's pumped until his ass spasms with preshocks of climax just seconds from actualising.

When he's released just as suddenly, coupled with overstimulation the stubborn hedgehog falters and an arm collapses beneath the unrelenting thrusts that quickly resume. Shadow drops to a forearm, a hiss of pain as his quills get tugged lost beneath the whimpered desire and heavy breaths he can keep sequestered no longer.

Held aloft by a dorsal quill so the canid can chuckle in an ear, Shadow growls in irritation until another destructive thrust turns his dissent into whining gasps for air. Infinite's proximity and a heavy scent of mounting pheromones, the musky scent of sex now stuck to his fur and permeating the office, it all turns his knees to jelly. Husky whispers a postamble to nips of delicate ear flesh barely register, despite a pause in the otherwise unrelenting thrusts. “Yes, Detective. Let me hear you scream. I  _ crave _ bringing pleasure to bitches that mark my desk.”

_ Jesus Christ, I can't endure much longer. _

Another hard thrust and he digs new rivets into the protesting desk below, all semblance of shame lost to the burn of arousal still alight on tan cheeks. He should protest being labeled as such, should never have offered himself for a second round, but this logic dissolves with every firm rock of hips. Sure the entire Den can hear them, Shadow can't seem to care at this point; he's fallen down the rabbit hole and forgotten his ladder, awaiting rescue even as his dignity and throbbing ass are torn to ribbons. "Y-You're a sadistic bastard…"

"That would make you a masochist," Infinite adds gruffly, an increase in pace drawing guttural groans from his prey while slender digits slip under the hedgehog's shirt, sending fresh shivers through his frame. Claws rake through the crest on his chest then tightly grasp the soft fur, using it as an anchor for increasingly frequent thrusts. "You came back, so you must enjoy it. A harlot desperate for dick, with an addictive taste for pain."

An attempt to respond dies in Shadow’s throat as he’s shifted by the hips. The subsequent thrusts hit a spot so painfully blissful he can't breathe, loud screams repeatedly pulled from his lungs. Driven towards a climax far more intense than the last, the ebon can barely comprehend anything besides an overwhelmingly sudden need to empty his balls as heavy breaths dampen the obsidian fur of his neck.

Infinite presses his snout into his scruff and inhales the detective's submissive hormonal response, his _ needs  _ and desires expressed through scent. Breath shaking ever so slightly when he manages to speak a thought that only now has come to mind, so lost in his fiery hedgehog he cannot imagine otherwise. “I look forward to more  _ business _ between us, but we bring  _ this  _ transaction to a close-”

Shadow gasps as the hold on his chest fur tightens without warning, about to object as Infinite buries his snout in ebony fur and pistons his hips; monochromatic claws dig into a dark waist, holding the slender Chaotic steady as every snap of the hips drags high gasps and grunts of pleasure from his newest lay. As expected the hedgehog squirms, overwhelmed by a pleasure he’s unaccustomed to, but is soon pressing into his experienced partner in lieu of earning a reprieve. 

Digging claw tips into flesh until Shadow stills from the pain, Infinite relishes every muscle in the ebon quivering on the verge of ecstasy, claws scoring the aged wood marred by so many before him, in this exact position beneath such a dominant presence. One last thrust and the detective cries out weakly, a mewl of exhaustive bliss as he coats his waistcoat and the desk with hot semen. His body surrenders to rhythmic spasms and Shadow collapses, held up by strong hands as his captor nears his own, still thrusting into his quivering ass with ferocity as relief turns Shadow's vision white.

_ Chaos, I didn’t realise my head was so cluttered. _

A suddenly forceful thrust burying Infinite's cock deep inside his anus is an unwelcome reminder of the knot to come. Not wishing to endure more pain Shadow realises with dismay it's too late, locked in place by claws drawing blood from his hip. Pressed to the jackal’s toned chest and with a gutteral snarl released into obsidian fur, the inevitable future of a knot in his ass makes him tense up, perhaps the worst scenario as Infinite’s fist of muscle swells to effectively plug his abused ass. 

Finally achieving his own orgasm, Infinite claws a dark thigh as he empties his load into the ebon's anus, slowly becoming deadweight against his detective with every pulse of cum. A soft whine slips through clenched teeth, shudder passing through his bones after his last wave of ecstasy and then the office is quiet except for heavy breaths and soft whimpers.

Shadow tries not to move, remembering how much it hurt last time. Laying prone beneath the gangster with the knot wedged in his ass, he takes the time to catch his breath, refusing to reflect on what they just did, what he had initiated without blackmail.

_ Even if my life is forfeit, I ask forgiveness no more. _

_ A Chaotic forsaken, betrayed by biology. _

_ This is what I've become. _

* * *

_Come hang with us - and read the half a dozen spin-offs, character bios and more - on our discord!_

_https://discord.gg/reCxjtm_


	4. Take The Reins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Infinite meets some uncomfortable emotions, while Shadow decides to take the initiative. Fire meets fighter as both gangster and detective get more than they first bargained for.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay.  
> This chapter killed me.  
> 6,500 words of Infinadow ghey.  
> 4,000 are pure, unadulterated sauce.  
> Enjoy.

**TAKE THE REINS**

Time slips past fleeting, yet memorable, like April rains as it soaks those trapped beneath the downpour. Mere days since their second transaction becomes weeks and then months, summer becoming winter, onwards to spring in the blink of an eye. Infinite barely notices, too busy to pay attention to the mundane. Claws wedged firmly into the SSPD's token Chaotic, he's managed to keep Nack from advancing into Upper Westside. The detective has been an undeniable boon in doing so; his old neighbourhood became a maze of dilapidated and abandoned buildings after the Professor's death, one ripe for the picking. A knowledge of local business and potential rackets got Infinite's foot in the door quickly, while Shadow's careful puppeteering of the precinct kept Nack busy until roots had been laid.

They began moving into the abandoned colonial a few days prior and have only just finished the last transfers of stockpiles and desired furniture. It isn't perfect - drafty and in need of repairs - but at least it doesn't reek of wet dog. The boys even have a bunk room adjacent to Infinite's suite, actual beds instead of moldy carpets covered with old newspaper or blankets, and a bathroom of their own on the ground floor. His office extending off the room the Squad tend to socialise in, he's also closer to the internal working normally left to Gray, but unlike the boss of ten years ago this doesn't bother the scarred jackal. The rabble of canids and rejects he seized due to necessity, then kept for power, have become unexpectedly dear to him; the health and well-being of the subordinates strangely important to the emotionally defunct fighter.

While a part of Infinite asserts he's keeping busy, another can't help but notice the strange flutters whenever a pup runs their first solo delivery or wins their first fight. It's disconcerting, an unwanted weakness until Gray informs the gangster it's to be expected; he's proud of them, a notion Infinite discards with a humourless snort. They aren't his family, nor does he wish for one, but the truth in the elder's statement haunts his mind as the old desk is dragged in.

Now sitting in his favoured chair, left alone to relax while the pack celebrate their new digs and fortune, he takes a moment to run a claw along the divots in his desk. Just a few years ago, being independent of his Owner was a wild fantasy entertained only when pain or hunger kept him awake at night. Yet here he sits heading a successful drug running operation, in charge of almost two dozen other canines of similar backgrounds and abuse, up to an elbow in clients and a police officer in his fist.

_ These pups may well be my unruly children, and the detective- _

A dark claw jerking into aged scores in the wood buried beneath newer additions stops abruptly, the timing of the sudden reminder enough to raise the fur on his neck. Shadow may not have shown interest for nearly two seasons, but the marks he left in the desk are sharp. Infinite knows he shouldn't care if the ebon hedgehog is done with him - there's plenty of tail to be had on the streets with far less emotional attachment - yet he's mildly melancholic following the lines, disruptions in their flow bring a slight reflux burn up his gullet.

Why it has such an effect he's not sure, but a painfully unsettling lack of control creates nausea alongside the fire leaving burns in his throat. When he can't stand the sensations any longer, Infinite retracts his claws from the old rivets and lights a gasper, staring at the office door blankly for his first few puffs. 

A holler of excitement and another of outrage brings dichromats sharply back into focus moments later, excitement of winning a high-stake hand like electricity through the boys gathered in the airy new dining room. They're in good spirits fuelled by the last batch of hooch from their old Den. Glasses, bottles and even metal jugs clink in a slurred toast the mobster can't decipher, more hard liquor gulped and vessels refilled. Infinite remains thankful he can't smell it over his cigarette nor see the disarray, after his old Owner's penchant for booze.

_ I'd deny access, but Gray is sure it'd ruin their morale. _

"You dirty fucking  _ cheats!"  _ He pauses mid-puff to glare at his closed door with irritation, the distinctively gravelly tone of the disgruntled detective piercing through his oak door with ease, a prelude to an argument he'd rather not have if Shadow has been drinking. "There's already been an ace of clubs! You've got fucking spares up your sleeves! I'm going to rip out your tongues and-"

With a sigh the jackal breathes deeply before expelling smoke from flared nostrils. Shadow goes abruptly quiet, a low grunt as Gray drags his featherlight frame from the table by an ear and tosses him away with little difficulty. It's an assault the gangster will allow given how irritating the cop can be. 

Casting his eyes down, he nonchalantly taps the ash into an empty glass, an ear turned to the ensuing conversation. "Yer done, toothpick," his right hand snarls out of sight. The boys have fallen silent, allowing a low returning growl to echo off the mostly-empty walls of the other room. Infinite takes another puff of his gasper and leans back, blowing smoke from pursed lips, mismatched eyes closing as he wills away lingering stress of setting up networks all week. "Now, I suggest yer get lost, 'cause if I gotta haul you outta here I ain't gonna be fuckin' gentle."

Dichromats snap open when something shatters seconds later, a low snarl already forming on white lips as Infinite sits up and stubs out the rains of his smoke. "This is utter fuckin'  _ bullshit _ ," the detective snarls through grit teeth, anger betraying a slight slur indicative of intoxication. "Why bother invitin' me to play when you're just gonna rob me blind and act like I'm shitfaced?  _ I ain't that stupid _ ,  _ Gray _ . I can remember fucking cards!"

Infinite stands, already halfway around his desk when the door flings open and Shadow stomps inside, oblivious to the jackal's ever-shrinking proximity as he turns and leans through the door frame. "You're all thieving bastards an' _yer hooch tastes like piss._ Get a new fucking tub so I can't taste decades of prior _failure_ in your next _woefully_ _inadequate_ batch."

He slams the door hard enough to rock its frame, turning with a snarl only to come up short just inches from Infinite's hard stare. The jackal gives him no time to explain or react. Taking hold of his waistcoat, he pulls the characteristically disheveled Chaotic away from the door and throws him up against a wall, taking an inordinate amount of pleasure from rapidly pinning ears and a surprised grunt. "You've got a damn attitude, hedgehog. I don't appreciate you shitting all over my boys, either. You got a problem, it goes through me. Understand?"

Second pass without response, the detective refusing to meet his gaze and his grasp on the jackal's wrist shaking slightly. Seeming defiance raising his hackles, Infinite tightens the grip and is about to slam him back into the wall for emphasis when he sees it; the faint pink beneath dark fur. More curious than reciprocal, Infinite presses a palm to the ebon's chest and leans closer, taking a deep sniff of his scent; below acrid smoke and hard liquor lies the tang of arousal, a smell only confirmed by a sudden increase in heat emanating from rosy cheeks.

"Jesus Christ," he mutters, hot breath skimming his neck making Shadow shudder. The jackal can't keep a smirk from his muzzle and presses even closer, content to have the stubborn hedgehog for once uncomfortably vulnerable. His thigh brushes the rapidly swelling mass in Shadow's slacks and draws a needy gasp from tan lips. "You're insatiable. Or did they finally give you a gun? Let me see…"

The gangster rubs a knee into his groin, his own dick twitching restlessly in its sheath as the ebon whines in pleasure. Resting his forearm on the wall, Infinite dips his snout into coarse fur and inhales deeply, desire and submission in his pheromones incredibly intoxicating. His prey releases a shuddering breath and tilts his head to expose his throat, the nervous swallowing beneath warm skin belaying the tentative trust as Infinite skims sharp fangs across flesh. "That's  _ definitely _ an erection..."

Despite the months since their last transaction, his scent is comforting in a way the jackal doesn't understand nor care to decipher. Frame quivering beneath his touch and fabric, Infinite is an instinct away from ripping them off with the claw currently tracing a skinny side. Getting bolder, the jackal shifts his hips closer and grinds their groins roughly and drinks in the grunted moan he gets in return, breath hot and rough on Shadow's neck as his own desire builds.

It all crashes down when Shadow huffs a breath against his cheek, billowing around the jackal's muzzle, the smell of excess whiskey drowns the pleasant scents exuded by his pores and halts Infinite's advance. Whispers of long repressed memories flood to the surface unbidden; his life as a pup filled with fear and hunger and pain, of an Owner who whipped him mercilessly for the slightest act of dissent or disobedience, the stale liquor scent that soaked the man's clothes and would precede his entrance like clouds building on the horizon before a storm.

_ Not to mention the constant stream of women. _

Most had been compliant, but Infinite remembers those who clearly weren't. Jack would bring girls up and show off his fighter frequently, usually to impress a girl on the fence about sleeping with him. Sometimes he would bring food but others, his pet was simply for show, the final hook in a drunken female to get them closer to his ex-marital bed. If they agreed to continue the party in private, they'd leave with little fuss to fuck, but every so often the dame would be unimpressed or not drunk enough, and would ask to go back downstairs.

These women never made it to the bed. Infinite's room and the attached training room sound-proofed for practice, no one ever heard him strike and call them harlots, nor the' screams for him to stop. Infinite could do nothing, but it was during one of these attacks he realised Jack saw women the same he did Chaotics; things to be bought, used, then discarded for another to take its place.

_ I'm not, and  _ **_never_ ** _ will, be like him. _

He draws back sharply and glares at the horny hedgehog, noting the dilated irises and cheeks rouged by underlying intoxication. Infinite's tail wraps around his calf as he realises he saw what he wanted to, blind through selfish desire. "You're wasted, aren't you?" The question is disappointedly flat with a sneer of disgust at his own willingness to take advantage of the drunk. Shadow breathes heavily with his back pressed to the wall, claws lightly marring the plaster. He may still be standing, but breathy whines and ebon ears weighed with heat are evidence enough for the jackal to release his shirt. "Of course... Go home and sleep it off. You'll thank me tomorrow."

" _ Thank you?!" _

The explosion isn't entirely unexpected, so he pays Shadow no mind as he takes his seat and fishes in a multitude of pockets for cigarettes, unable to remember which he put them in. His brain reels from the possibilities of the near miss of becoming like the Owner he despises and barely notices the hedgehog pushing off the wall to stand, knees obviously weakened by drink. "You rile me up, hang me out to dry and I'm supposed to  _ thank  _ you? _ " _

Unable to find his camels Infinite snaps, lips curling back in an anger so fierce it flashes sharp canines. "Yes, thank me. You're not fucking sober, Shadow. I don't care if you  _ had a few drinks _ with the lads or are a finger of your favourite cheap piss from being entirely  _ wasted,  _ I don't fuck drunks." Fingers closing on a crumpled carton, he extracts a gasper, straightening the bent stick as further words are slurred by pursing lips that hold it in place. "Now get lost. Preferably  _ before _ I tell Gray he can toss you to the curb like yesterday's garbage."

"I'm not drunk," the detective states harshly. Infinite can smell the aggression pouring off him from the other side of his office. Unwilling to encourage insubordination but too stressed to react rationally, he doesn't reward the hedgehog with attention but instead finds a zippo, lighting up as Shadow continues: "I don't appreciate  _ you _ deciding when I've had too much, either. I'm not one of your damn pups, jackal. I'll stop when I  _ want _ to."

The lighter sparks uselessly, barely a hint of heat let alone flame. Shaking the object more vigorously than necessary, Infinite lets out a frustrated growl. "Fine. Do what you want." He spares the ebon a glance and finds the soft frown on his features amusing, a humour quickly tempered by the continued failure of his light. With another low growl he drops the device in a desk draw and looks for another, once again not focused on his guest. "It's been a long week and my patience is thin. Don't push your luck."

It's as if Shadow has been reduced to a blank canvas; his internal flame that usually fuelled his defiance reduced to smouldering coals in surprise, an echo of himself in the jackal's peripherals. He still takes up space and breathes air, but is less interesting than an antique gathering cobwebs. The reduction of tension is palpable and had he located another lighter, Infinite may have relaxed.

_ How empty you feel without that fiery resolve. _

He's still searching pockets when the  _ thunk _ of something being cast aside gives Infinite pause. Taking the unlit cigarette from thin lips, he turns back to see the ebon pulling off another shoe and sock before discarding them haphazardly with the first. Bare claws - the second and third on one foot and smallest two on the other - clack against floorboards beneath threadbare carpet. The jackal initially raises a brow in question but as ebon fingers begin removing his belt Infinite is spurred to speak. "What the hell are you doing, hedgehog?"

Buckle released, Shadow looks up slowly. Crimson orbs flickering with that same spirit the gangster had thought tempered lock to dichromats as he slides his belt free. "What I want." 

He throws the belt aside, then begins to work on his pants while he continues to stare. The fur on the jackal's neck rises in response to the obvious challenge; had Gray or the boys been present, he'd have shut the hedgehog down  _ immediately and painfully _ to maintain authority. Alone with the defiant detective though, his refusal to submit is intoxicating, sending a flutter of warmth to his groin and something else he can't identify to his brain. 

Shadow drops his slacks without ceremony, hissing with painful eroticism as his hardened cock springs free. Pale cheeks warm as he steps from the fabric pooling around his ankles and takes unexpectedly sturdy paces towards the desk, never breaking eye contact even as deft fingers loosen his collar and waistcoat. His engorged, pink member stands to attention beneath shirt tails, and Infinite digs his claws into an arm of his chair at the sight of the tapered tip already beading precum, throat thickened with desire. "I said go home, Shadow. You're intoxicated."

"No," the streaked biped responds, this time without pause. The gangster barely has time to register the response before Shadow climbs into his lap, so close the jackal can smell stale smoke on his collar. "I'm not drunk, asshole."

Ebon legs straddling clothed thighs, a tan muzzle presses into his neck as the detective's body bucks with pent-up arousal. Not daring to grab the jackal himself, he buries his claws in the chair's backrest and his rod grinds against the hard mass in the jackal's pants. Huffs of breath on coal neck fur send shudders through the pinned jackal's toned frame, sparks of pleasure spiking in his groin with each touch of their hardening appendages.

_ I should stop you... _

Sensations in his body build unbidden, arousal and indiscernible emotion filling his eardrums with rapid beats of his own heart, driving his lungs to draw deep. This close, a confusing array of pheromones flood from Shadow; submission, arousal, but also something masculine and heady that meshes with the others to become entirely new. It's not a scent Infinite has encountered before but it's quickly becoming addictive, shifting his focus from the residual booze fumes to a more primal appreciation for pheromones and willingness.

Another thrust of unskilled hips and Infinite groans, hips bucking upwards to increase the contact, constricted cock twitching with satisfaction when the ebon whimpers and nearly collapses onto his chest. Shadow's inexperience is almost laughable, his shivers and gasped breaths only fuelling the jackal's own burning desire. 

Wishing to communicate his own interest to engage, dark claws skim down a side from chest to waist, drinking in mewls and whimpers whispered into his neck until finally reaching a bony hip. He grabs onto hedgehog flesh with no remorse, releasing a shuddered breath when digging tips into the detective's pelt has his exposed cock twitching and leaking more precum. 

All this attention brings Shadow to a shuddering halt, tan muzzle buried in soft, coal-coloured neck fur as his core muscles quiver and dark claws flex on worn upholstery. The stubborn cop has become pudding in his lap. Equal parts amused and impatient for release, Infinite fists a handful of ebon quills and pulls the hedgehog back sharply, the grunt of pain from above quickly returning to groans of pleasure as he licks the newly exposed flesh before he skims across his throat with sharp teeth. 

"How pathetic," the jackal comments huskily as claws at his hip keep Shadow still and compliant, not that he needs the further encouragement. "I've barely touched you. Tsk, horny drunkard."

Shadow rocks his hips in response, grinding their groins together with a gasp of bliss. It's surprising enough for Infinite to release his quills and he straightens in the jackal's lap, a palm splayed on the canine's chest for balance. "I-I'm not fucking  _ drunk."  _ Dilated rubies study him, humoured dichromats returning the gaze in kind, but with tan cheeks ablaze and chest heaving for breath, the pulsing dick pressed to Infinite's groin belies his nerves 

_...beat you and throw you out on that stubborn ass. _

Hesitant rubies flicker between face and zipper before Shadow fumbles with it. "Nervous, detective?" His tease is met by a low growl and Infinite can't help but chuckle, unconsciously running a claw through ebony headquills as Shadow continues to wrestle his stubborn zip. "That's to be expected. Consider yourself lucky I didn't beat you for being so forward. I don't usually entertain defiant harlots."

"I'm not a fucking ladyboy off the Corner. Shut up before-" 

All of a sudden, the zip complies. The jackal grits his teeth and hisses when his heated cock is released into cool air, the slight shudders dancing through both men as their cocks come into direct contact bringing silence in its wake. Mismatched irises flutter closed for a moment as his breath catches with pleasure, but soon reopen when nothing else transpires. 

Faced with another member pressed to his own - or perhaps the reality of what he's about to do - Shadow sits frozen on the jackal's thighs, gaze locked on the pulsing appendage brushing the underside of his own pulsing erection. His wide eyes and pinprick pupils would be comical in any other instance, but the fresh influx of lusty pheromones is too potent for the pent-up gangster to ignore; he snags the other ebon hip and shifts the source of those erotic scents into position, manhood poised to penetrate the fleshy ring now quivering above his manhood.

Shadow whimpers as the tapered tip slips an eighth of an inch past his ring without any pressure. He clutches Infinite's crisp waistcoat in anticipation of pain, head dipping into a dusky neck. The jackal nips playfully at his ear, an appreciative growl passing pale lips when the detective whimpers with desire. " _ Relax _ ," he reminds Shadow with a teasing lilt, jerking his hips up slightly for emphasis as he indulges another inhale of delicious submission. "It hurts when you're a tight-ass. Or do you like it to hurt…?"

The muscular entrance encasing his tip flexes as the ebon pulls away, irritated growl alongside a heavy frown. "Sh-Shut up." 

_ I've scarred pups for far lesser infractions. _

Waistcoat released as Shadow arches his back, the jackal takes a moment to appreciate the amateur male about to ride his cock. Snug flesh flows over bones like water, weathered waistcoat nipping a larger shirt in to accentuate a slim build while shirttails billow out over narrow hips. Collar already loose, the crest of white on his chest explodes in disarray to frame neck and jaw in stark contrast to ebon, ruby and tan pelt. If female, he'd be strikingly beautiful. As a male he's a treat, one Infinite enjoys feeling quiver as his hands slip beneath his shirt and trails across bare flesh. "No shame in  _ kinks _ , detective…"

In response, Shadow suddenly drops into his lap, reducing the taunt to a strangled groan. As his heated rod plunges past the ebon's tight sphincter and nestles deep inside his ass, ashen claws dig sharply into coarse hip fur as mismatched irises flutter closed, pleasure overriding the jackal's usual need to remain in control as his head lolls back. The abused hole is tight, shivering at the sudden intrusion, but it's a blissful paradise to the heated organ seated to the hilt within.

Far less content on his dick, the ebon whimpers through halting breaths and drops his head to the gangster's shoulder, bowed back keeping their torsos separate as he struggles to cope with the sudden, earth-shattering pain in his rectum. It's worse than memory would have him believe, overtaking his entire being as waves of contractions rip through his stomach and gut, dwarfing the pleasure he knows will come with perseverance. 

Watering rubies squeezed shut, he doesn't realise the gangster watches in dysphoric confusion, mind racing as fast as his heart.

He's fucked plenty of lays before but always in complete control and  _ never  _ face to face. He's seen a tight grimace of discomfort over a shoulder, heard initially distressed cries without remorse knowing they wanted to be his cum hole, but in this instance it's disturbingly difficult to behold. Dark claws loosen in his pelt and gently graze exposed skin while the sensation grows in his stomach, something new and warm that's fanned into flame as despite the pain, Shadow shifts experimentally on his cock.

_ Yet I encourage you, reward your defiance... _

Every move Shadow makes is deliberately and slow, punctuated by shuddered moans of bliss whenever the rod he rocks upon presses the right spot in his anal cavity. Ebon and rose claws rip the old chair's upholstery as he weathers wave after wave of an intense pleasure he's still adjusting to, unable to lift his head from the supportive shoulder. He grunts and huffs into Infinite's neck, trying different angles until an unsteady full rotation of the hips brings him to a whimpering halt, aching rod dripping thick droplets onto coal fur.

Taking advantage of his weakness, Infinite slides a hand back to his hip and clutches at the delicate flesh, other trailing up the detective's side until he reaches a shoulder. Without pause, he grasps the hedgehog's chin and pulls his head up with a twist of the wrist, Shadow grunting with discomfort as his exposed Adam's Apple quivers. 

"Still nervous? You'd think with my cock in your ass, that would be a lesser concern." Smirking, strong hands keep the squirming hedgehog in place with little difficulty as Infinite leans closer, drinking in the sudden bob of the lump before skimming sharp fangs across it. Hot breath and teeth on sensitive skin combine to send delightfully delicate shivers through the ebon's frame. "I could kill you with ease," he whispers into Shadow's neck, his own manhood twitching with eroticism as the male cop draws a shaky breath. "Does that excite you, detective? Does wondering if I'll turn on you as you slip into ecstasy make you hard?"

Unable to resist the opportunity, the canid thrusts his hips up into his anus, nipping his damp neck with approving snarls when Shadow cries out in bliss. "Come now, I've seen you chase felons for  _ months _ , but one penis and you can't follow through? How disappointing…"

Another thrust into his new favourite lay makes the ebon groan, a second and ruby irises struggle to stay open. Barely beyond his cherry being popped months before and already very aroused, Shadow can't focus. He goes limp as a third thrust forces the hot cock so deep inside that it pokes still-virgin flesh. Infinite can smell he's close, relishing the hormonal intensity that comes with an imminent male release. "You're so sensitive, but I've no cause to be gentle with you... I know you like it rough."

_ Enjoy it… _

He starts pistoning his hips upwards, plunging past the shivering pucker with ferocious speed, his prey's primal grunts drowned by the erotic  _ slap _ of balls on asscheeks and the wet heat of sex. It's not long before Shadow can't bear it; swimming in absent-minded bliss, he chokes on a mouthful of spit when climax crashes down on him, unrelenting shudders shooting through his extremities and culminating in his groin with searing orgasmic pleasure. 

A strangled moan and his painfully hard member explodes into rhythmic spasms. Shadow falls into a personal nirvana as waves of hot, delicious pleasure push sticky cum from his tip, soaking the jackal's waistcoat and shirt. Infinite groans with delight, the contractions echoed in the detective's ass pleasant on his cock.

Every firm grasp of his girth another prelude to the climax he's determined to reach, he grooms the ebon's coarse neck fur with tongue and teeth, thrusting until the exhausted hedgehog falls boneless in his grasp. Held aloft only by the other's strong claws as euphoria wears off, he smells his own seed splattered between them and jerks back as far as the jackal will allow, ears heavy with arousal. Shadow is relieved to see his sticky fluids marrs only the jackal's clothing but, as the thick rod stuffed in his ass sends renewed symphonies of pleasure through his sore rectum, he comes to a whimpering halt that has Infinite chuckle. "Just a few minutes and you're done? I expected more of you."

_ Show me more of that fire, detective. _

Shadow spares mismatched irises a tired glance as he shivers, dark thighs tentatively taking his weight. The gangster smirks, releasing his jaw as he straightens, though not before trailing deadly claws down his delicate throat. Flesh quivers and rejects the touch even as shuddered gasps escape from tan lips, but he doesn't dismount Infinite's lap. He instead swallows hard and breathlessly grasps a chair arm for balance. "I'm not d-done…"

Something simmers intently in the hedgehog's eyes, far beyond defiance into realms he can't identify. Infinite casts it aside for later consideration. "My suit would beg to differ."

Maw agape and chest heaving, it's almost comical to consider Shadow taking the reins again, yet the ebon digs his claws into the fraying upholstery and rolls his hips, drawing a gasp from his already hoarse throat. Infinite tightens his hold and tempers his groan to a quiet growl with difficulty. "The fucking drink," the hedgehog laments huskily. Another roll of the hips far harder to disregard forces Infinite to grit his teeth or lose face. "Made me c-cum too soon… not what I want…"

"Strange, I thought my cock made you cum." The detective rolls his hips viciously in response, though he struggles with the pang of pain tinged with bliss it causes and pauses again to whine. An amusing outcome for the more experienced jackal, he chuckles and skims a claw close to the semi-erect rod hanging between them, smirking when it twitches lethargically. "Then what is it you want, if not to achieve release? Cum dripping out your ass? My knot stretching your sphincter?"

"Sh-shut up," he grunts. Cheeks set ablaze by the comments, Shadow finally finds his rhythm. He still lacks coordination, his fluidity interrupted by shuddered gasps and grunts that have the jackal's cock pulsing with desire, but how strange it is to see the faces that accompany the sounds; a slight squeezing of eyes, lips parted and drying with each breath, only to be moistened by the flicker of an elusive tongue as his breath warms the air between. "I j-just want more…"

The detective repositions his hand and tries another angle. Still moving slowly, he gasps when the cock slips right to the hilt and loses his balance, grabbing for the jackal's forearm with his free. His following breaths are ragged as he tries to pull himself back up, arm shaking under the strain of holding his own feeble weight. "F-Fuck, don't try to catch me or anything, bastard."

"I'm not the idiot who leant back too far," Infinite returns with a snort before hauling him up by the forearm. Ignoring the growl he gets in response, the jackal pulls him closer, only to snarl in irritation when Shadow resists by planting a palm on his chest. "Want to fall now, do you? Make up your damn mind, hedgehog. I'll just let you go next time. Hell, one good shove and-"

Destabilised by the jackal shoving a shoulder, he lashes out with a yelp and claws at Infinite's forearm, barely caring for the growl of pain as relief displaces the panic, a flood of emotion soon to become anger. " _ Jesus Christ _ , you're such an  _ ass. _ " His next swipe is at the jackal's jaw that's easily intercepted, who watches the ranting hedgehog intently. "Gray's got my damn keys. I can't go home. I have to wear  _ this suit _ tomorrow and you're covered in fucking  _ cum _ . I don't want it on my clothes."

"Your cum," the canid reminds him with an amused smirk, the smarting of fresh, shallow claw marks forgotten when Shadow flushes a deeper red and yanks his hand free. "It's your fault my shirt is filthy, so you'll have to cope. I can always lend a shirt-"

"So I can look like the office clown? No thank you." A fair point as Infinite is far broader in every aspect. Last time he stayed after Gray hid his keys he'd gone to work wearing a suit big enough to fit another Shadow in. It garnered more looks and attention than the ebon was comfortable with and Infinite had to listen to his complaining about their jokes for weeks, the memory of which haunts the jackal until unsteady fingers undo a button on his waistcoat. "It won't take a minute. Hold still."

Infinite snatches his wrist and twists it, enough to draw a gasp of pain from the detective who tilts uncomfortably in his lap, the shift in body weight sending a whisper of pleasure through his cock that's difficult - but not impossible - for the jackal to ignore. "Whatever you're planning to do," he states in a hard tone. "I'd advise against it. Don't undress me, hedgehog."

He releases the ebon sharply, who grunts and takes a minute to rub his sore wrist, turning curled lips and exposed fangs on the gangster. "It's just a damn suit, or would you rather take mine off like a paid whore? You told me to deal with it, but  _ somehow _ I should have known your clothes were off limits? Fucking-"

"I swear to God," the canid states quietly, claws flexing on ebony hips mostly from irritation. The nausea swimming in his gut and anxiety of almost definite rejection upon seeing his scarred pelt brings up emotions he's reluctant to acknowledge. He takes a breath and steels himself for the fallout, an easy task having taken it from many a lay before. "Stop complaining and damn well undo it then, before I lose the remnants of my patience and take over; just pull it aside and get on with it."

"You're such a charmer," Shadow responds blandly, but there's no hesitation getting back to the buttons. The waistcoat is easy, but disobedient fingers fumble the smaller buttons of his shirt a few times before they're finally all free, all the while hot breaths and slight shifts on Infinite's cock keeping them both hard. "I bet the skirts line around the block for your dick."

A retort dies in the jackal's throat as not a moment after releasing the last button, Shadow pulls his shirt wide open and inhales sharply. The gang boss readies for the exclamations of disgust at the welts on his chest and stomach, of this newest recurring piece of tail to climb off and make excuses. He tightens his grip and readies an affronted reaction as time seems to drag, entire body tensed and poised for a fight.

Crimson irises flicker to amber and turquoise, easy to miss with a poorly timed blink, but as Infinite is about to turf him off he does something wholly unexpected. First and foremost, he rolls his hips again, drawing a gasp from both participants and a soft whimper from the hedgehog riding his cock. Second, as Infinite recovers from the initial surprise of further stimulation and the rhythm Shadow is building with each rock, cool fingers touch the top of his longest scar, following it from his collarbone. It crosses a boundary he isn't prepared for but the careful, unerring touch of another sends pleasantly foreign shivers up his spine.

_ What is it about you…? _

He hasn't time to consider it before Shadow picks up the pace, his own length beginning to throb and leak against the jackal's stomach again, every juddering rock of ebony hips punctuated by a  _ moan _ of delight Infinite has to fight not to mirror. His finger reaches the jackal's chest and pauses over his heart, pressing on the rapid beat of life beneath his pelt. It may have been a trick of their pheromones but he's sure the hedgehog smiles a little before he moves on, leaving a trail of ice as potent as fire in its wake as it skims across toned abs.

A hitch in breath and sudden buck of the hips, Shadow leans closer and begins to pound his ass onto the thick meat inside and for the first time in any foray, Infinite isn't sure what to do with his hands; they cling uselessly to ebon hips, digging deeply into flesh so tight they're sure to leave sores. The detective doesn't seem to care though, burying his snout in the jackal's neck as his hand comes to a shaking stop on a striped waist. The grunts and whines that accompany his pace are an intense, enrapturing soundtrack accentuated by wet _slaps_ of an ass lined with precum hitting his groin, sensations of being balls deep in another accentuated by individual enthusiasm, but he _still_ doesn't know where his hands should be.

_ Why do I want more…? _

Shadow's ass shudders with the pre-shocks of ecstasy and the jackal can't hold back any more; relinquishing control to instinct, his hands find their own way to new destinations. One entwines with ebon quills to hold him in his neck, savouring the scent of male arousal encasing his senses, while the other settles on a thin hip. With a snarl of passion, he pulls the ebon down firmly onto his cock, barely hearing Shadow cry out in overstimulation as his knot swells and locks them in place. 

Meaningless white noise clouds his senses as euphoria spasms through his balls and along his rod, hissing as thick shots of seed pump into Shadow's hot, shuddering hole. A splash of fresh cum on his stomach adds further pleasure. Infinite tightens his hold on the other as pulses of cum continue to fill his detective to the brim, pooling against the fist of muscle, ready to spill when the hot, slick hole stops tightly contracting his girth.

Reality returns slowly. The fog lifts in increments until he's back in his office, the whimpering weight on his lap breathing heavily into his neck as shudders wrack his body. The scent of semen is potent, the slightest tang of metallic blood joining the aromas as sharp claws retract from ebon flesh. Not exhausted but at least fatigued, Infinite drops his head back and closes his eyes with a contented huff, releasing Shadow's quills to trail his hand down a thin side, enjoying the hitched breaths against his fur.

He should be teasing the hedgehog about his desire, refusing to pander to the exhaustion and preparing him to be thrown off as soon as his knot recedes. Something stays his tongue, though; a feeling in his gut that plays off the memory of shuddered gasps and scrunched eyes, maw agape in need to draw heavy breath. It's more than a thought. An unyielding sense of _depth_ as he sits in contemplation long after Shadow falls asleep, messing up his precious suit despite earlier assertions.

_ You should mean nothing, just another lay. _

The scar Shadow traced still tingles uncomfortably, not in pain or affront, but a confused sensation that spreads throughout his tired body. Every piece of tail who's seen his chest had made an excuse and scarpered. Infinite always let them, never wanting to force himself on a partner, always paying working girls for their time despite sickening anger at his former owner for letting him become so hideous and his own self-hatred flaring.

_ Yet you weren't repulsed… _

Legs growing numb, he forces begrudgingly painful muscles to move, groaning with effort beneath the detective's deadweight despite how petite he is. Standing is the hardest part, but once on his feet it's easy enough to carry Shadow across the room to deposit him in a pile of old coats always ready for his drunk ass. Infinite considers leaving him in soiled clothes for a long minute before he huffs, roughly strips the sleeping hedgehog, and adds his suit to his own laundry before throwing a sheet across his naked form. 

"I'm not giving you an excuse to complain, asshole," he states in a quiet tone, certain Shadow is far too gone to hear even as the ebon shifts and curls into a ball in the makeshift nest. His scowl has softened to a calm neutrality the jackal hasn't seen before that sends more pangs through his stomach he turns away from. "Sleep it off; your suit will be clean by morning."

_ You should mean nothing to me... _

_ Why don't you feel like just another lay? _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright! Part 4!  
> The end of the beginning!  
> I hope you enjoyed this short if rather raunchy exploration of our favourite gay boys finally discovering something they agree on.
> 
> Also, we have a discord now!  
> https://discord.gg/reCxjtm


End file.
